


Secrets That You Keep

by Dresupi



Series: QuickTaser [27]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, F/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Pietro Maximoff, Prompt Fill, Smut, Table Sex, Underwear Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Pietro's crush is becoming a problem.  A problem exacerbated by one Darcy Lewis and her incredible underwear.OR...The five times Pietro saw Darcy's underwear, and the one time he didn't. ;)





	

**Author's Note:**

> An extension of a ficlet I originally posted on 30 June 2016 on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com/post/146737104454/i-wanna-be-your-underwear-bryan-adams).
> 
> Based on '(I wanna be) Your Underwear' by Bryan Adams, link [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekM8J2cTuig). (Title from those lyrics)
> 
> Thank you to hollyspacey for all your help with this fic!
> 
> All of Pietro's Sokovian is Google Serbian. ;)

I.

* * *

 

Pietro wasn't exactly LOOKING for another reason to fantasize about Darcy Lewis.  He really wasn't.  In fact, he was looking for reasons NOT to think impure thoughts about the girl who brought him practically everything he needed.

She was already adorable.  Completely cynical and snarky.  Met him quip for quip without batting an eye.  Eyes that were so blue he wanted to swim in them.  She already gave him all kinds of hell for everything under the sun.  And he fucking LOVED it.

She gave him hell and then made sure the kitchen in the common area always had Crunch Berries, because she knew it was his favorite cereal.  She'd call him some cutesy little nickname like 'Sonic' or 'Speedy', and then recommend some show she thought he'd like that was conveniently on Netflix.

And she smelled so sweet.  Like vanilla and lemons.  He wanted to bury his face in her hair and inhale deeply.

Or just...date her so he could spend all his time nuzzling her neck and kissing her all over.  And if that turned into something more than kissing, then...so be it.

All except for the fact that she seemed to only be into him platonically.  Which...was fine.  He wasn't about to push where he wasn't wanted.

And then it happened.

Wind happened.

 _Ježišmarjá_...did the wind happen.

He was running on the track and she was leaving, having just come out to go over the list of things he needed her to pick up for him.  He'd blushed crimson when he'd asked for new Under-armor.  No, not shirts.  Not pants.  The...things that went under the pants.

And she, of course, didn't miss a beat.  Guessing exactly his size and writing it down on the list.  Like it was the most natural thing in the world for her.  Like she always bought his...unmentionables.

And she'd waved goodbye and walked away.

And then…out of nowhere, a breeze picked up.  A breeze that quickly turned into a gust.  A gust that quickly blew right up Darcy's flowy pink skirt.  Blew it right up.  Straight up.

Exposing her panties for God and the world.

And Pietro.  Who, despite telling himself repeatedly to not look, fucking LOOKED.

And now he'd have that image in his head.

They had hearts on them. HEARTS.  Purple and blue hearts.  And goddamn, her ass was just as glorious as he'd imagined.  Round.  Perky.  And from what skin he could see...Smooth.

She managed to push her skirt back down, turning around abruptly to lock eyes with him.

Her face immediately reddened.  "Get a good look?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Still pressing her skirt down.

"I...I...I like...your...panties?"  He winced.   _What the actual FUCK is wrong with me?_

She stared at him for what felt like the longest moment in the history of moments.  There was no WAY it was just sixty seconds.  NO WAY.

And then, she burst out laughing.  "Really?  Which ones are they?"

She craned her neck and lifted her skirt again at the hip to look for herself.  "Oh these!  I love these!"  She dropped the skirt, smoothing it again.  "Okay.  Not mad. You saw my cute undies." She grinned, waved and turned to leave again.

Pietro blinked twice.  He cracked his neck and took off around the track.  Anything to get the image of those blue and purple hearts stretched across the most perfect ass in existence out of his head.

II.

* * *

 

Darcy handed him the bag with a smile.  

And Pietro snatched it from her as quickly as he could without ripping her arm off.  

So much for playing it cool.  

“Let me know if that stuff fits right, okay? I don’t want you like…chafing or anything because you’re too nice to tell me I got the wrong size.” She was calling as he left the room, slowly backing out of the common area while everyone was giving him weird looks.  He was acting like an idiot.  A baby.  All because he’d seen her underwear and now he was being gross and unable to think of her in any other way.  She was still wearing the skirt for fuck’s sake.  

“I’m sure it’s all fine!” he replied, before zipping out of the room.

He ran back to the small apartment he shared with Wanda, tossing the bag of clothing on the sofa before sitting down himself to stare up at the ceiling.  

“Pull. Yourself. Together,” he intoned from behind his hands.  

“Please, you’re acting like a child…” Wanda said from the kitchen, making him jump nearly out of his seat.  

“I’m going to put a bell on you…” he warned.  “Like a sneaky cat, you are.”  

She snorted back a laugh and melted down into the chair on the other side of the coffee table,  her legs draped over the arm as she peeled an orange.  “What’s in the bag?”  

“Stuff.”  

“Wow.  Thanks for being so specific.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Unmentionables.”  

“I have known you since the second I was born, Pietro.  And you’ve never been a prude.”  

“Darcy bought them.”  

“Ahh…” she said knowingly.  “ _Darcy_ bought them.  Darcy is the unmentionable.”  

He pulled the bag over into his lap, reaching in to pull out the contents.  “Under Armor.  T-shirts.  Socks. Are you satisfied?”  

“There’s something else in there, I think…” She smirked and popped one of the orange segments into her mouth.  

“What, you have X-ray vision now?”  

“No.  I can just tell by the weight of the bag.”  

“Oh…” he reached back in, withdrawing a small pastel pink bag, discreetly _not_ labeled with a store name.  “What’s this?”  

He always said his body was faster than his brain nowadays.  Because he could guarantee that he’d have never done something this stupid before the experiments.  But, he reached into the bag, his fingers closing around and lifting out the contents just as his brain put together the reason for the discreet bag.  

Of course, by the time he’d realized that he’d accidentally stumbled upon Darcy’s Victoria’s Secret purchase, he already had her red thong dangling from his fingers.  

His mouth fell open at the sight of it, and Wanda dissolved in giggles.  

“Red’s not really your color, Pietro…”  

“Shut up…” he growled, dropping it back into the bag and quickly replacing the tissue paper.  “And make yourself useful.  Take that to Darcy.”  He thrust the bag into Wanda’s hand.  

“Oh get over yourself…” She yanked it from him.  “Getting all bent out of shape because of some racy underwear…”  

He suppressed the urge to cover his face, even though he was probably blushing as red as the underwear in that bag.  

“Or maybe it’s not the underwear…maybe it’s the person who will be wearing it?”  

“Wanda, stop playing dumb when you already know…” he grumbled.  

She smirked and got up, walking towards the door.  “I was wrong.  Red _is_ a good look for you, Pietro…”   

He did cover his face after she left.  

III.

* * *

 

Pietro wasn’t usually the blushing, awkward type of guy.  

No, he’d always had a good track record with the ladies.  Pun intended.  He’d usually been able to think of sweet, smooth ways to pick them up.  To get them in his bed.  And he always, ALWAYS knew his way around their underwear.

Even after the experiments and the enhancement, he could still get around most of the hurdles presented to him.  

At least, he could until fate decided to start showing him Darcy Lewis’ underwear at every possible chance.  

Now, it was like he was ruined.  She’d ruined him with her curves and her smile.  Her softness that he couldn’t touch.   

Of course, he supposed he was only ruined if he _felt_ broken.  And he didn’t.  He felt alive.  Alive, but in a constant state of torture.  

Wanda called it a crush, but he’d had crushes before.  And they were never like this.  

This was more than a crush, this was a _decimation_.  

He’d realized all of this _that day_ in the lab.  The Day.  In the lab.  

He’d gone down there for a simple shoe fix.  He’d worn down the insoles of the super shoes Tony had made for him, and needed new ones.  So, he’d gone and stepped up onto Tony’s weird body measuring machine/3D printer and gotten the soles of his feet measured.  

Darcy was there to visit Dr. Foster, but she’d gotten roped into helping her with one of her machines, which just so happened to be beside the one scanning his feet.  And of course, the machine promptly caught fire, because why wouldn’t it?  

And sometime between the fire and the subsequent lock down of the part of the lab they were in, the sprinkler system came on.  And stayed on until FRIDAY had determined that the fire was sufficiently out.  

Which turned out to be around fifteen minutes.  During which everyone in that part of the lab was soaked to the skin.  

It wasn’t a huge deal, except that Darcy was wearing a thin satiny white blouse and a bright purple bra.  The former became transparent and clung to her like a second skin when wet, outlining the latter in brilliant relief against her skin.  

Pietro really, really tried not to look, but he saw it a couple of times.  And he swore softly to himself.  Because his traitorous brain now knew not only the shape and contours of her ass, but her breasts and waist as well.   And no matter what, he couldn’t stop thinking about that red thong.  

Darcy, for her part, didn’t seem to care, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and making jokes about her headlights being on.  

And all the while, Pietro was in hell.  

Alone in hell.  At least, he was until he reached for the back of his soaking wet shirt and pulled it over his head.  He noted the wide-eyed looks he got from both Dr. Foster _AND_ Darcy when he did that.  

The way Darcy’s eyes traveled down his bare torso, ending somewhere around his navel before traveling back up to his face.  

But instead of just grinning with that cocky self-assuredness he usually had, he also blushed crimson and fiddled with his shirt, suddenly becoming very interested in folding it exactly right.  

He had it bad for Darcy.  And judging by that look she’d just given him, her affections weren’t exclusively platonic.  

And that fact absolutely wrecked him.   

IV.

* * *

 

He blinked, sort of unable to believe that this was actually happening.  

Darcy’s thighs wrapped around his head.  Her weight on his shoulders.  

The night sky above them.  Stars and the moon shining down through the massive skylight.

The burn of pool water as it was splashed in his eyes.  

“BEST TWO OUT OF THREE!”  Wanda yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Darcy from her perch atop Sam’s shoulders.  

“We won, fair and square!” Darcy countered, wobbling slightly on Pietro’s.  He wrapped his arms around her thighs to anchor her more securely while she and Wanda verbally fought out whether or not there would be a second round of chicken in the pool.  

The new pool.  The new indoor pool that Tony had opened up in the dead of winter when no bathing suits could be found or bought without having them shipped in.  It was a hell of a nice surprise that none of the inhabitants of the Avengers complex were prepared for.  All the suits would be there soon, but they had wanted to take advantage of the heated pool that very day.  

And so…here they all were.  In their underwear.  

Sam and Pietro in their boxer briefs.  

Wanda and Darcy in various…other things.  

Wanda had chosen to wear one of her huge t-shirts that she normally reserved for pajamas, while Darcy had gone a different route.  Wearing a black bra and matching panties.  That were now soaked from their hours of swimming and clinging to her like a second skin.  

And she was also perched on his back.  

He couldn’t say this wasn’t his favorite part of the whole evening.  Because it was.  

And he was also pretty sure he had a near constant grin on his face from the second she’d shed her shirt right up until now.  

Because Darcy in the pool was handsy and bold.  And Darcy in the pool had run her hands straight up his chest.  Her thumb had risen and dipped into the contours of his abs and he couldn’t have been more pleased with that fact.  

He was 80% sure she had feelings for him as well, but he knew that now was not the time to act on them.  So, he had to sit and wait and pray for the girls to decide another round (or possibly two) of chicken was necessary to declare the winner.  

Until then…he was going to sit tight.  

V.

* * *

 

His t-shirts were pink.  

So were his socks.  

All of his whites.  Absolutely pink.  It looked like a bottle of Pepto Bismol had exploded all over his clothes when he opened the washing machine.  

“ _ Jebem ti zivot… _ ” he muttered under his breath, pulling them out one at a time to toss into the dryer.  One would think, with all his money, Tony Stark would spring for washer/dryer hookups in _all_ of the apartments, not just one set in a tiny room off the kitchen.   But every time someone brought it up, he’d mumble something about it being a team-building exercise.   

Whatever.  Pietro could pull off pink t-shirts.  And nobody ever saw his socks anyway.  

He got down to the bottom of the washing machine and found the culprit.  

Darcy’s red thong.  The same one he’d found in the pink bag the week before.  It was haunting him.  His dreams, his thoughts.  And now his laundry.  

He pulled it out, straightening it and laying it out flat on top of the dryer as he pulled out his phone.  He was going to tackle this head on.  It would probably be dry by the time his things were done in the dryer.  He was giving this back to her.  And he was asking her out on a date.  

This was becoming a huge problem and it didn’t need to be.  He’d ask her out, and if she said no, he could deal with that.  

The dryer buzzed forty minutes later and he dumped all his clothes into a basket.  He tugged on one of the t-shirts and dropped the thong on the top of his clothing.  

He found her alone in the common room, lounging on the couch and reading a book.  He approached her from behind and dropped his basket beside her.  “I believe this is yours?”  

She arched an eyebrow and met his gaze.  “How do you know that’s mine?”  

“It’s either yours, Wanda’s, or Natasha’s,” he said pointedly.  

Darcy scoffed.  “Hey now, what about Jane?”  

“Dr. Foster doesn’t live here. It’s yours, is it not?”  

She snatched it from the top of the basket.  “So what if it is?  What do you need, Pietro?  More socks?  T-shirts?”  

He frowned.  “I don’t only come to you when I need things, do I?”  

She shrugged.  “I just figured since your tighty-whiteys are all pinky-pie now, you might want some new ones.”

“I don’t wear tighty-whiteys…”  

Darcy smirked, reaching up to pinch his cheek.  “I know, Cookie.”  

Pietro sighed, and reached up to clasp her hand.  “I don’t need you to buy me anything.  I _will_ take a date if you’re handing them out.”  

Her mouth remained open for a split second before she closed it, tugging her hand gently from his.  “I don’t give those out to just anyone.”  

Pietro leaned forward over the back of the couch.  “Who _do_ you give them to?”  

“People who ask nicely and say the magic word.”  

He couldn’t help but grin. She was adorable when she was being coy.  “ _Please_ , Darcy.  It would make me the happiest man in the world if you’d allow me to take you out this Friday.”  

She grinned, turning around and rising up on her knees to meet him halfway.  “I’d love to, but you didn’t say the magic word…”  

“I said ‘please’…” He grinned and propped himself up on his elbows.   

“’Please’ is just you being polite.  You don’t get special treatment for being polite.”  

“What’s the word, then?”  

She reached up to run her fingers through his hair.  “Dinner?” she whispered.  

“Please Darcy…let me take you out for _dinner_ on Friday night?”  

“Why Pietro, I’d love to,” she said with a smirk, tousling his hair and sitting back down in the seat.  “I’ll get you new undershirts and socks too.”  

“Thank you, and you don’t need to do that.”  

“They’re pink,” she countered, glancing down at the basket.  “So very, very pink.”    

“So what?  I like them pink.”  

“They’re ruined.”  

“They’re not ruined.  And even if they were?  It was worth it to see your underwear again.”  He winked.  

“You think you’re seeing my underwear on our date?” Darcy sniffed and looked back down at her book.  

“No?  I meant…” he gestured down to the red thong on top of the basket of laundry.  “This?”  

“Oh that?  That’s not mine.”  

He chuckled, reaching down for it and dangling it between his fingers.  “So you wouldn’t mind if I threw it out, then?”  

She reached up and yanked it out of his hand.  “Wipe that smug look off your face and go plan a romantic evening…” She paused for a moment before adding, “Cookie.”       

VI.

* * *

 

The date had gone well.  Very well, if the nature of their after dinner activities was any indication.  They’d started out watching TV on her couch.  That soon accelerated to making out on her couch.

Darcy’s hand moved down his back, gripping his ass as she rocked her hips up towards his.  The heated nature of her kisses were starting to get to him.  

Starting?  Ha.  He’d lost track of his own name within the first five minutes.  All he knew was lips and heat and tongue and _Darcy_.  

He broke off the kiss, only to press his lips to her jaw, sucking lightly as she ground herself against him.  

She reached for his hand, sliding it up her thigh to the hem of her skirt.  He chuckled, releasing her with a pop.  “I thought you said I wasn’t going to see your underwear tonight, _princeza…_ ”  He noted how her breath caught in her throat at his use of the nickname.  He reminded himself to keep using it.  

“You’re not…” she said with a smirk, even though she was still tugging his hand up her thigh.  

He kept expecting his fingers to catch on something.  A tiny scrap of satin, or if he was really lucky, lace.  

But they didn’t.  There was just smooth skin.  Darcy’s smooth thigh that melded into her hip and then…then…

He choked out a sound against her throat when his fingers brushed against _her_ .  Slightly damp, hot as fuck and all _her_.  

She coaxed his fingers over her, spreading her legs slightly to give him better access.  His fingertips slid against slick skin, hot and very nearly dripping with it.  He pressed up slightly, parting her with two fingers.  

He pushed up with his other arm to look her in the eyes, to see them flutter closed as he gently stroked her.  “Are you sure about this?” he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips.  

She nodded against him, “Yes…I’ve wanted this… _you_ for so long…”  

He groaned into her mouth, letting his fingers stroke over her arousal, down to her opening and then back up to her clit.  He drew small, light circles around the tiny nub, feeling her thighs tense as a quiet moan escaped her lips.  “Oh Darcy…I’ve wanted this… _želim te…moja princeza…”_

“As hot as it is when you do that…I only know conversational Sokovian, Piet…” she whispered.  

“I crave you…my princess…” he repeated, his lips forming the words against her throat as she arched up against him.  

“Oh wow…” She smoothed his hair out of his face.  “That’s the most romantic thing anyone-who-is-also-fingering-me has ever said…”  

He chuckled, leaning into her touch.  “I can do better…I’m very good with my mouth.”  

“That a promise?”

“Definitely…” He leaned down to nuzzle her nose with his before pushing up and away from her.  He knelt on the floor and tugged her legs to either side of him.  He rose up on his knees and pressed his lips against her throat again, tugging gently on the buttons of her blouse until she got the idea and undid them the rest of the way, opening the blouse and revealing her decision to not wear a scrap of underclothes at all that evening.  

Her breasts were just as glorious as he’d expected them to be.  Full.  Round.  He cupped her in his hands, letting his thumbs drag over her nipples until they drew tight.  

Darcy’s breath caught in her throat when he lowered his head to one stiffened peak.  He flicked it lightly with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth.  She smelled wonderful, and her warmth enveloped his entire being.  She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him more and he moaned, the sound muffled against warm skin.  

He switched to the other side, licking and flicking with his tongue until she stopped him, pulling him back from her by his hair.  He reached for the zipper on her skirt, finding it on her right side and tugging it down.  

Darcy lifted her hips and he tugged the fabric down and off, leaving her completely bare to his gaze apart from her shirt, still unbuttoned and haphazardly thrown open. And her shoes: black patent heels that he’d keep on her for as long as he could manage.  

He ducked his head down, pressing his lips against her immediately and feeling her quiver.  He spread her thighs more, parting her easily to his gaze.  She was slick with arousal, slightly swollen from his earlier teasing.  Her scent was intoxicating, and he inhaled deeply, feeling her fingers scrape at his scalp.  

Pietro mumbled her name reverently as he licked a long stripe up her slit.  

She grabbed his hair when he started licking her in earnest.  He tried to memorize the sounds she made.  He traced out his name against her clit, feeling her muscles clench tightly and then release, over and over as he tried to ascertain which motions garnered the strongest responses.  Rapid flicking got him nearly the same reaction as a slow swirl.  Whereas a fast swirl wasn’t nearly as strong a response.  He altered his movements, feeling her muscles tighten and loosen as the sounds she made ebbed and flowed in his ears, finally resorting to rapid flicking with an ever increasing speed.  Pietro used his powers to make his tongue vibrate, hearing her whimper out her release as he drew it from her.  

She yanked him away when it was too much, and he looked up into her dark eyes and licked his lips clean of her, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he rose up to stand, rubbing his palm over his throbbing groin as he let her catch her breath.  

“Where do you want me?” she asked, her mouth open slightly as she panted, standing up.  Her legs wobbled and he reached for her, pulling her up onto his front as he carried her around the couch, across the floor to where the carpet met tile, depositing her safely on the end of her dining room table.  

He fumbled in his pocket for a condom, which she pressed back into his hand.  “I’m covered…” She assured him while tugging up on his shirt.    He pulled it up and over his head, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off with his shoes.  

Darcy tugged down on the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down and over his hips.  

Pietro immediately reached down to take himself in hand, stroking as slowly as he could up and down his stiff length.  “If you don’t want—”  

“Shush…” she reached for him, pulling him close. “I _do_ want.”  

He leaned over her, pressing the head of his cock up against her.  She enveloped him in her wet heat, searing into his mind as he moaned his pleasure into the room.  

His hips surged forward and back again, pounding into her as her heels pressed against him.  

Darcy felt so… _good._ Searing heat combined with the rasp of her nails as she dug them into his shoulders.  Those shoes of hers scraped against his ass and lower back.  He watched her eyes flutter open, her eyes a thin ring of blue around widened pupils as he reached down, his thumb slowly encircling her clit and making her walls clench tight.  

“Cum for me, Darcy…” he murmured. “Cum on my cock, _princeza…”_

Her lips parted, pouty and red.  He saw a glimpse of white teeth, of pink tongue as she panted.  Her eyes squeezed shut as she tumbled over the edge, clenching around his dick and gasping his name.  

He thrust into her heat, feeling his own orgasm burst from the base of his spine, filling her as he slowed, came down.  

Pietro slid his arms around her back, holding her tight against him as he stilled.  

“Holy shit…that was amazing…” Darcy whispered against his chest.  “Can we…go somewhere a little softer?  Bedroom, maybe?”  

He zipped them back there in no time, landing both of them on the edge of her bed just in time to fall back against the pillows.  Darcy crawled up into his arms and settled in to ask the one question he was hoping she wouldn’t ask.  

“You said you’d wanted this for a while…” she began, her fingers trailing up and down his abdomen, playing with the trail of hair beneath his navel.  

“Mmm,” he hummed into her hair, the sound deep and resonating.  She snuggled against him more.  “I did say that.”  

“How long?”

He took a deep breath and let it out.  “Almost since I met you.”  

She smiled, her finger dipping slightly into his navel and moving up his chest.  “So that day when my skirt flew up?”  

“One of the best and worst days of my life.  Best because I saw your underwear.  The ones with the hearts?  Stretched across your perfect ass…”  

She giggled and pressed a kiss to his jaw.  

“And the worst because I didn’t want you to know how I felt…because I didn’t think you felt the same way…”  

“Are you kidding, Maximoff?  Have you looked at you lately?  Very nice.  Very hot.  Skin melting specimen.”  

He smirked and turned to kiss her forehead.  “Likewise.”  He reached down to pull the blanket up over them before wrapping his arms around her again.  

Pietro wasn’t looking for another reason to fantasize about Darcy Lewis, because he didn’t NEED to fantasize anymore.  He had the real woman.  And she was infinitely better than anything he could think up.  

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com/), if that's a thing you do. <3
> 
> Jebem ti zivot-Fuck my life


End file.
